


Edges

by orphan_account



Series: There (and back again?) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Child Soldiers, Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family Feels, Force Magic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Post-Order 66, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Faced with a way to turn back the clock and save her people from death, Merrin doesn't really care why a defective clone is in possession of an ancient Sith artifact. That's fine. Cody's not sure he knows why he has it either. All he knows is that it's calling to him with a promise of away back.Or, how Cody, Cal and the Mantis crew find themselves stranded on a wartorn Melida/Daan decades before Order 66, and find an abandoned Jedi padawan.
Relationships: BD-1 & Cal Kestis, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: There (and back again?) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624687
Comments: 370
Kudos: 1638





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This might just be the most ambitiously ridiculous thing I have ever written. We're going to jump in headfirst and untangle a few decades worth of trauma and PTSD in the process. 
> 
> Also, while this is heavy on the H/C, it's also possibly the fluffiest thing ever.

_“We should kill it.”_

_“Nobody is killing anyone.”_

_“He’s a trooper, he serves the Empire!”_

_“He’s no trooper: he’s a clone.”_

The voices bring him back by degree, soft, and though wary, not unkind. Matter-of-fact and reasonable. They come with a sense of calm that’s familiar, for all that he can’t place it. Peaceful and steady. Something he knows he once relied on.

It’s the last voice that jolts him fully back to consciousness. _Clone_. This person knows who he is. What he is.

And that’s good because he doesn’t really have a clue.

He opens his eyes and finds himself almost nose to nose with a teenage girl. Her pale face and delicate tattoos spark a memory of a far-flung planet, dark and frightening in a way a simple soldier like him can never fully comprehend.

“Give him some room, Merrin.”

The girl narrows her eyes. She’s looking for something, or maybe just doesn’t want to follow orders without a flex of rebellion. Whatever she sees, whatever she finds, there’s nothing in her expression to betray her when she leans back and gives him some air.

Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he takes a look around. They’re on a ship, one sleeker and far more luxurious than any he can remember being on before. A yacht maybe? Private for sure.

Beyond Merrin there’s a Latero bouncing agitatedly by the door - the only exit. There’s another woman by his side, older, sterner, and eluding a quiet authority. That sense of peace, of calm, seems to be coming mostly from her.

In the far corner of the room, almost poised for flight, a boy sits and watches him with wary eyes. A small droid peers out from under his arm, a BD unit, heavily customized. The boy is afraid of him, and while he has no memory of what he’s done to deserve that fear, he can see the truth of it in a trembling jaw and the flush pink of healed blaster scars.

“What’s your designation, soldier?”

No part of him considers refusing the woman’s question. “CC-2224.”

“You got a name to go with that?”

“Not calling you CC-whatever,” the Latero shakes his head. “Pick a name or have one picked for you. I think you look like a Tulip.”

“Cody,” he says, swallowing back the nausea that comes with it. “My name is Cody.”

“Cody. I’m Cere, this is Merrin and Greez,” Cere gestures to the Latero, who punctuates his grimace with four thumbs up. “And that’s Cal.”

_“Beep boop beep!_ ”

Cere’s stern expression cracks into a smile. “And BD-1.”

“Sirs,” he nods respectfully and swings his legs around off the bed. Most of his old armor is long gone, sold or repurposed. What he wears now is a hodgepodge of parts scavaged and stolen, chosen to make him innocuous on the Outer Rim, just another Bounty Hunter among many. There’s nothing to identify him as the man he once was. Nothing except his face. His brothers are either dead or have been absorbed into the new Galactic Empire. Most are dead. Clones are all but obsolete now; they’ve outgrown their purpose. The only people left alive who might recognize him are scattered Jedi or Sith.

The boy’s unease makes sense: Cody doesn’t remember a time when he and his brothers served with the Jedi, but he knows it happened, and he knows it ended bloody.

“You gonna carry out your orders?” Cal spits the question like blaster fire, curling even tighter towards the bulkhead at his back and further away from Cody. He can’t be much more than eighteen. A child, really. In the face of his distress, the girl, Merrin, steps towards him, her hands raised in a warning. She’s a slip of a thing, but a voice in the back of his head reminds him that appearances can be deceiving. Especially when dealing with Jedi.

“I left the Empire,” Cody says. He wants to explain that they have nothing to fear from him, but with a gaping hole in his memories, it’s a promise he can’t make. Instead, he unbuckles the collar of his jacket and bends his neck forward, folding until his chin almost hits his knees. It’s the ultimate gesture of submission and docility, but it’s the scar just touching his hairline that he’s most interested in showing them.

“You removed your processing chip,” Cere surmises. “Brave. Or stupid.”

“I wanted it out.” He can’t explain why any more than he can explain how. Just that it built from a niggling want to a screaming necessity. “I needed it out.”

“You’re lucky you survived,” Cere says. “You’ll forgive us if we’re not so quick to trust you. Chip or no chip, your kind slaughtered ours and I won’t put this crew at risk for a stranger.”

“You did for me,” Merrin comments mildly.

Cal frowns. “You never tried to kill me,” he argues. She cocks her head to one side, her expression amused. “Personally,” Cal amends. “There were circumstances.”

“There are always circumstances,” Marrin responds.

“Be boop.” The little droid makes a sad, mournful sound and presses closer to Cal.

Cody inclines his head. He’s not sure he trusts himself much, either. “How did I get here?” He’s spent so much of his life in space that he can feel the minute movement of a ship down to his bones. There’s a comforting softness in the vibration that’s missing: they’re not at lightspeed. Either they’re still on the planet, or they are in the atmosphere.

Cere seems to be the unofficial commanding officer on the ship: she carries the most obvious air of authority, but it’s Cal who answers him.

“We found you unconscious and brought you to the Mantis for treatment. You wanna explain what brings a veteran of the Clone Wars all the way out to Belsavis?”

Belsavis. The ice planet on the edge of the Outer Rim. As cold and unforgiving a world as you can find. The Empire has settlements there, repurposed from the outposts built during the Republic. Neither of those things are what took him there. They are superfluous details, a holograph to mask the true history of the planet.

A prison built by the Jedi to hold the very worst of the Sith. A planet hollowed out, made dark and wicked by those trapped there. An artifact molded by malicious madness; a way back.

His memories begin with the birth of the Empire, but he knows, deep in a painful, septic wound in his chest, that he wasn’t born with these scars; he wasn’t born with blood under his fingernails and screams ringing in his ears. There’s _Before_. There’s the vod’e an. There’s the Jedi. And there’s a voice in his head, father and brother as one, whispering stories of a place far, far away, and a prize that can turn back time and fix his mistakes.

A prize that he’s won.

Not that it really matters. Ancient Sith magic doesn’t come with an instruction manual.

They’re mostly curious as he reaches into his pocket. Curious, and a little wary. The prize is innocuous enough, small, burnished metal dulled by millennia of neglect. It’s something that might be crafted by a prisoner under guard, that passes all inspection from those who don’t know what they’re looking for.

Then the girl - Merrin - the witch, flashes with power, lightening green and ringing with a song he knows he’s heard before. “ _Kaff_ ,” she whispers.

Cal is on his feet a heartbeat later, a hand extended in cautious concern. “Merrin?”

She doesn’t seem to hear him at first, summoning the disk from Cody’s hand to float within a cage of static power before her.

“Uh oh...” Greez backs further from the room, more afraid of Merrin than he is of Cody. “This isn’t good, this is _not good_...”

“Merrin?” Cal approaches her like you might a wounded animal, his voice gentle and his posture unthreatening. He doesn’t reach for the lightsaber at his hip, and for a second Cody thinks of another Jedi, foolish and trusting and kind and nameless.

Merrin’s eyes are glassy. When she’s finally able to tear her gaze away from Cody’s prize, her young face is awash with grief. She visibly aches with longing, with need, and the air around her crackles.

“Merrin,” Cere this time, less cautious than Cal. Firm. Calm. “Control yourself.”

“How?” Merrin demands. “How did you find this?”

The truth is the only answer he has. She knows what it is, and more, she might be able to use it.

“It called me.”

She nods, as though his words make perfect sense to her. “It wants us to go back,” she says. “To make things right.”

“Wait,” Greez says, “what?”

“Go back where?” Cal asks. “Merrin! What are you-”

Her power explodes outwards, enveloping the room with flashes of raw, dancing power. The jolt of energy makes his nerves ache, his skin tight and tingling.

Witch, his mind supplies. _‘I have a bad feeling about this.’_

“Merrin, no!”

“I will not lose this chance,” she says. The power she threw out into the world is abruptly drawn back, sucking life and air and time itself back towards the disk with the implosion of a star.

Cody’s not frightened. Not of this. For once in his void forsaken life, he thinks something might actually be going his way.

Then the lights go out, and the world explodes.

* * *

Reality and consciousness come back faster this time. Cody snaps open his eyes and narrowly avoids the second face to peer down on him in his unconsciousness.

Not the witch. Not one of the Mantis crew.

This time it’s a boy, younger than Cal. Truly a child. Pale and bruised, bloody at the temple and the corner of his mouth, a thin braid sticking out from behind his ear, spikey and matted.

“Hey, hey, easy,” he whispers, a small hand pressing lightly to Cody’s chest. “It’s alright, you’re safe for now.”

A groan to his left tries to draw his attention away from a face he knows but has never seen. Greez swears colorfully, creatively, and Cal scrambles to reach Merrin’s side as Cere winces and rubs the back of her neck. Cody ignores them all.

This is what he’s here for, he knows it. For this boy.

They’re not on the ship. They’re not on Belsavis either. The air holds a familiar tang of blaster fire and blood and there’s too much noise beyond his sight for them to be anywhere but a city.

“Where are we?” Cal asks.

Cody doesn’t care where they are. He cares _when_ they are.

“O-Bin,” the boy says. “Or the outskirts at least.”

That’s-

“Melida/Daan,” Cere whispers breathlessly.

“Did you come from the temple?” the boy asks. Exhaustion clings to him, horror and desperation traced in every unnatural line clustered around wide eyes. “Is Master Qu- I mean, is Master Jinn with you? Did he come?” The breathless hope in his voice scrapes across Cody's heart.

Both Jedi freeze. Cal, still crouched at Merrin’s side, holding her unconscious form protectively against him, opens his mouth to speak then clearly loses all words.

“Young one,” Cere says softly, “what’s your name?”

“Obi-Wan,” the child answers, "Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service." And Cody’s heart sings. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your lovely comments! I'm so excited you enjoyed the first chapter. 
> 
> Just a note to say that we will be following books 5-8 very loosely as Cody and the gang create some fairly big ripples in the timeline. Overprotective clones, found families and a Nightsister in the temple are bound to have an impact!
> 
> For reference, Obi-Wan is 13, Cal is somewhere between 17-19, Merrin is 16, Cere and Greez are both early 40s and Cody is both very old, very young. Bant, Vos and Bruck are 12/13.
> 
> I've put Cere in her 40s because a, we don't have an exact age for her and b, I wanted her to be a few years above Obi-Wan so we have a legitimate reason to not see her mini self running around the temple. 
> 
> I also mention that Cody was in command of 30,000 I'm going out on a limb here, but the 212th was a division and in a typical army that would be between 8,000-30,000 during a large conflict. Given there was mention of a further million clones, this number is likely wildly different, but I wanted to highlight just how many people Cody, and Obi-Wan, were responsible for.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is thirteen, and Melida/Daan is a powder keg. Introductions are made quickly, quietly, while Cere takes the lead in deciding how much information they share.

Which is to say they admit to absolutely nothing beyond the very basics: they were traveling through the Outer Rim, and have no idea how they ended up here on the surface. Obi-Wan listens seriously, not interrupting, then nods his head. He believes them. For now, at least, he’s willing to take them on trust.

The boy clearly recognizes Cere and Cal as Jedi and that seems to be enough to soften his suspicion, if not alleviate it. Either they are telling the truth, or they are lying. A Jedi Master and a Kedi Knight won't lie unless they have cause, and that’s enough for him.

His gaze lingerings longingly on the lightsabers that hang on their hips. He’s not carrying one, the Jedi’s weapon of choice traded for a vibroshiv strapped to his thigh and a blaster tucked into a holster under his arm.

 _‘So uncivilized,’_ Cody’s memory tells him.

But then the whole blasted set up seems about as uncivilized as you can get. Children aren’t meant to be soldiers, not even Jedi children.

“Zehava’s three klicks to the south,” Obi-Wan says as he helps Cody to his feet. Behind them, Cal carefully lifts Merrin into his arms. “Most of the medcenters are struggling to cope after the war, but we do have medics who can look after your friend.”

“Thank you,” Cal says. BD-1 bounces up and clings to his back, peering curiously over his shoulder as they begin to walk.

“You’re out here alone,” Cody announces, deeply unhappy with the observation. “Why?”

Obi-Wan tugs at the edges of his sleeves. He keeps pace with Cody, his long, slightly gangly legs are steady and sure as they traverse uneven ground. He’ll be taller, Cody thinks. One day. “I had to get out of the city,” he says.

“Last I heard, the whole planet was a warzone,” Cere says carefully. “Is it safe to go to the Capital?”

Obi-Wan nods, earnest in his need to reassure them. Cody knows nothing of the planet’s history, but a precursory glance across the surrounding landscape reveals a world heavily scarred by conflict.

“Rival tribes of Melida and Daan have been fighting over territory for centuries,” he says. “This last conflict lasted over thirty years, but-” he sighs and the sound rings with misery. “The Young rose up in protest. We wanted to put a stop to the conflict, but the Elders refused to let go of their hate. We were able to secure victory a few months ago and formed an alliance with the Middle Generation. It gave us the numbers to form a government.”

Cody glances at him out of the corner of his eye. We? Us? “This is your home planet?”

He’s sure it’s not. Certain in a way that makes little sense.

“No,” Obi-Wan flushes. “No, I... I came here on a rescue mission with my Master, and I-” his gaze darts quickly to Cere and Cal before dropping to his feet. “There were so many children dying: I couldn’t leave them to die.”

“So you stayed,” Cal says gently.

He and Cere share a glance. “And your Master did not,” she finishes.

Obi-Wan nods, miserably. “It’s all gone wrong. We can’t maintain the peace, and Cerasi...” he shudders as a wave of grief visibly rolls over him. “Nield is right: it’s my fault.”

Cody doesn’t know who Cerasi or Nield are and doesn’t really care. He cares about Obi-Wan and the pain he is so visibly struggling to endure.

“Is that why you left the city?” Cal asks.

“Nield is Governor. He said I’m not welcome here anymore.” Those words come with a different kind of grief, bewildered and hurt. “But don’t worry,” he’s quick to fix on a smile in an attempt to reassure them. “Not everyone hates me. The medcenter will help your friend.”

The witch is breathing and her unconsciousness is likely exhaustion. Cody thinks he once held someone in his own arms once, clinging to consciousness and grinning at their victory before losing their battle and succumbing to darkness.

“Thank you Obi-Wan,” Cere says. “You’re a remarkable young man. Your Master will come if you’ve called him, I’m certain of it.”

The praise brings nothing but misery to Obi-Wan’s expression.

Cody’s not so sure he likes this Master of his much at all.

* * *

Obi-Wan speaks quietly to one of the medics, who eventually nods and directs Cal to lay Merrin down on one of the cots. While Cere and Greez join him to cluster around the unconscious witch, Cody turns his attention to the only thing that matters.

It takes only moments for Obi-Wan to be drawn away into hushed discussions with both children and young adults alike. Leaning into the shadow of the room’s many alcoves, Cody allows himself the luxury of unimpeded observation. It all feels familiar: watching others vie for this boy’s attention, seeing him issue instructions, advice and steady compassion each with ease. They turn to him, flowers to the sun, and despite his belief that he is no longer welcome on the planet, it’s obvious he’s trusted and well respected by many of its inhabitants.

Cody watches them come and go, pulling the boy’s attention this way and that. He watches Obi-Wan keep a careful eye on Merrin as the medics see to her needs, and he watches as not a single one of them makes any move to address the fact that the boy is still bleeding.

When it becomes clear no one will, Cody feels a tendril of irritation tickle his spine. He can’t recall ever being irritated by anything, but this sense of _no, wrong, stupid, stubborn, selfless Jedi_ settles into his bones and makes itself a home. Drawing himself up to his full height, Cody marches towards Obi-Wan and the new cluster of people demanding his attention. Focusing his gaze on the one in medics white, he fixes a practiced glare on the young man’s uneasy form.

“I need a field kit,” he says, infusing a lifetime of combat authority into his voice. The medic starts to hesitate then thinks better of it, squeaking and scurrying off to fetch the requested supplies.

Obi-Wan looks up, startled. “Are you hurt, Cody?” he asks, worry pulling at the bruises around his mouth. “You should’ve said, I’d-”

A field kit is thrust under Cody’s nose. He grabs it, then takes Obi-Wan’s elbow. “You can ask him more questions in an hour,” he barks, satisfied as people trip over themselves to avoid his anger.

_‘Jedi do not give in to anger, Commander.’_

_‘Good thing I’m no Jedi, sir.’_

“There’s no need to be rude,” Obi-Wan admonishes. “They were only asking questions.”

If the boy were an adult, Cody thinks he might be able to stand the scolding with good grace. Instead, he seizes the boy by his arms and sits him down on an unoccupied bunk. “You’re injured,” he says sternly.

Obi-Wan frowns. “I’m a little bruised,” he corrects, “it’s nothing serious.”

Cody touches a mottled cluster of purple and red on the boy’s cheek. Obi-Wan doesn’t flinch. He’s already accustomed to pain.

They didn’t go back far enough, Cody seethes.

“You a medic now?” Cody asks. There’s a way to do this. No coddling. Matter of fact. Calm. Distracting.

Obi-Wan looks every inch the sullen teenager. “No, but they are.” He points to some of the beings Cody scared off. They all very pointedly look in another direction.

“Not very good ones then,” Cody snorts. “Take your jacket and shirt off and let me look at those ribs.”

“No thank you.”

“You always been this good at following orders?” Obi-Wan might not be in a rush to do as he’s told, but Cody has free access to his face. A careful swipe of a bacta wipe over the corner of his split lip makes him splutter and flinch back. Bacta stings so bad that it’s hard to remember why its good for you sometimes.

“You’ve not really given me any reason to,” Obi-Wan hisses.

“You’re their leader,” Cody says.

Obi-Wan’s frown deepens. “I’m really not.”

“Yeah? Tell them that,” Cody says. “You’re waiting on your Master, you want to stop another war. The fastest way to succeed at both of those things is with a clean bill of health. Short of that, not showing up to negotiations looking like you’ve been beaten by a bunch of thugs with sticks.”

He wonders what will happen if the boy’s Master sees him looking so hurt.

It’s an anathema. Obi-Wan Kenobi should be safe, always.

If not, Cody should at least be allowed to see him cared for.

And the ones who hurt him dancing with their ancestors.

The advice is enough to make the boy relent. He lets Cody clean his face and says nothing when bruised ribs are carefully checked and wrapped. The silence becomes a familiar one, comfortable enough for Cody to work efficiently and with as much care as his clumsy fingers can manage.

“Do you think he’ll come?” Obi-Wan eventually whispers.

“Your Master?”

“He was so angry.”

_‘Jedi do not give in to anger, Commander.’_

“Doesn’t sound like any Jedi I know.” Not that he actually knows any Jedi.

“I betrayed him,” Obi-Wan says miserably. “I endangered the life of another Jedi, I forsook my vows, failed my training. I swore I’d be the best padawan ever, and I disappointed him. He was right not to want to take me-”

Cody can’t listen to anymore.

_‘Jedi do not give in to hate.’_

Maybe the boy is right and he is no Jedi: Cody’s never felt such self-hatred, and he’s no stranger to personal failure.

“I’m a soldier,” he interrupts. “Or I was. I was responsible for thirty thousand men. They were my brothers, we were a family. And when one of them messed up, I might’ve been mad at them, but they were still family. And as their commanding officer, their mistakes were my mistakes. My responsibility. If your Master is truly someone worthy of your respect, he will feel the same way about you. He won’t abandon you. He shouldn’t have left you in the first place.”

“Master Qui-Gon is a great man,” Obi-Wan protests, “and a great Jedi.”

“Then he’ll get over it,” Cody shrugs.

For a second, Obi-Wan looks hopeful. It doesn’t last. “And if he doesn’t?”

Cody shrugs. “Then I’ll punch him in the face.” He grins as a surprised bark of laughter escapes Obi-Wan’s lips. “Now come on, let’s go see if the witch is still alive.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The number of you who want Cody to punch Qui-Gon is truly heartwarming! :D

Cody does not like Qui-Jon Jinn. It takes no real interaction with the man to reach that conclusion. He has only shared a very brief, precursory nod with him upon his arrival. It's not because he's tall and imposing, or because his sharp, intelligent eyes seem to look right through him. No, he doesn’t like Qui-Gon for one very simple reason: Obi-Wan looks at him like he hung the stars in the galaxy just for him to explore. The man has the ability to make or break the boy with a single look and he seems to be completely oblivious to the fact. He listens to Obi-Wan’s report of the situation with steady compassion, but none of that translates into the words and actions that are required to put the boy at ease.

_It’s not your fault._

_I don’t blame you._

_You’re safe._

The last one isn't likely something Obi-Wan _wants_ to hear, but he clearly needs to.

_Thirteen_ , Cody thinks, glaring at the back of Qui-Gon’s retreating head. _You left a thirteen-year-old in a war zone_. Cody’s been here five minutes and already had to ‘gently dissuade’ a couple of attempts on the boy’s life. Obi-Wan is too caught up in his grief and trauma to either notice or care that people want him dead, but Cody has developed some fairly strong opinions on the matter.

There’s a small part of him that wants to drag the bodies of the would-be-assassins and drop them at Jinn’s feet. A ‘ _here, this is how you do it_ ’ gesture that’s more suited to feral beasts than a soldier. Somehow he doesn’t think Obi-Wan will approve. He doesn’t give a shab what Jinn thinks.

He stands in the entrance to the Medcenter, allowing the cool morning air to wash over him. He’s not tired, despite staying up all night on watch. New purpose has invigorated him and gives him strength. It also leaves him agitated and unhappy as Obi-Wan and Jinn head out into the city to make headway into bringing back peace to the feuding planet. Obi-Wan knows all the players and it makes sense that he’s the one trying to rebuild broken bridges. Cody’ll even - begrudgingly - acknowledge Jinn’s suitability as a third party negotiator. What he protests to, what he _deeply_ protests to, is being left behind.

But Jinn has insisted he stay here with the two Jedi he arrived with and Obi-Wan is so desperate for his forgiveness and approval that he’s offered no counter-argument in Cody’s favor. Which, fine. He’ll have to be stealthy about it. 

“You’re not going to be able to follow them.”

Cody manages to keep his curse of surprise internal and swaps out his glare for the most passive-aggressive expression he can manage. Cal’s as silent as a shadow, appearing at Cody’s elbow without a whisper. It seems to be part of his point. “You can’t sneak up on a Jedi,” he says. Personally, that sounds more like a challenge than a fact, but he jerks his chin in unspoken acceptance. “Master Jinn won’t let anything happen to him,” Cal promises, softening for the first time.

Master Jinn is way too late for that.

Irritated, he jerks his chin towards the door. “How’s the witch?” He has no personal feelings for her either way, but it’s thanks to her they are here. Cody won’t see her suffer unnecessarily.

Cal has a terrible sabacc face. “She’s exhausted, but Cere thinks she’ll wake up soon. Then we can figure out how we managed to travel back in time, and what we do about it.” He, Cere and Greez have been pouring over data pads while they've awaited Jinn's arrival. Cody's left them to it, more interested in learning everything he can about their current situation and the hostilities around them. They can focus on the big picture, his priority is singular.

Cody shrugs. They can have all the fun that they like with their artifacts and magic. He’s found his purpose and he’s going nowhere. If that means following Obi-Wan across the galaxy for the next few decades then so be it.

Still, Cal has to know it's not as simple as ' _poof, time travel_ '. “She’ll want to save her people.” That’s what Merrin said.

“I don’t even know if that’s possible,” Cal whispers. He wants that, too. He wants to save the Jedi. Something passes between them, an uneasy truce. Cal wants to protect the Jedi; Cody wants to protect a single Jedi. Their goals align. “He was your General, wasn’t he?” Cal looks toward the two Jedi in the distance and shakes his head. “You were Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Commander.”

_General_.

The word settles in his bones and warmth chases away a chill he can’t remember ever being without. _His General_.

“I don’t remember,” he admits begrudgingly. “I just... feel. I’m supposed to protect him.”

“Great job there,” Cal’s response is cutting and quick, and from his expression, immediately regretted. The language that follows is a mess of Huttese and pilfered Outer Rim dialects, non-sensical and utterly filthy. Cody raises an eyebrow and the kid’s face almost matches his hair. “This is such a mess. Why here? Why now? Why _him_?”

“We can ask your friend when she wakes up.”

“Merrin never left Dathomir before I met her,” Cal shakes his head. “She didn't know Master Kenobi, she wouldn’t know where he would be or when. She didn’t choose to bring us _here_.”

“Then what did?”

“The Force,” Cal answers, firm in his conviction. “We’re supposed to be here. Now.”

“Because of the kid,” Cody agrees. The kid he’s let wander out of sight with a caretaker who has done nothing to prove himself worthy of such responsibility.

Though neither has Cody. Not yet. In his time, the Jedi are dead and gone, the few survivors frightened and in hiding, scattered. If Cody’s life is truly supposed to be spent protecting Obi-Wan Kenobi, then something, somewhere, has gone wrong.

“I think I’ll kill anyone who looks at that kid wrong,” he says firmly.

“Spoken like a true clone,” Cal says, the bitterness in his voice less noticeable now. “Okay, new plan: I’ll go keep an eye on Obi-Wan and see if I can’t help resolve the issues here on the planet. The sooner the mission is complete, the sooner we can head back to the Tem-” his eyes widen and quickly fill with tears, “the Temple. The Council will know what to do.”

“The Jedi Council?” Yeah no, Cody’s not so sure about that. That Council either agrees with leaving Obi-Wan here or doesn’t care enough to intervene and bring him home unless faced with a broken, begging child. They’re just below Jinn on Cody’s list. Besides, “They deal with time travel often?”

“No idea,” Cal looks slightly hysterical, “but if Master Yoda doesn’t know what to do then...”

“The girl won’t wait around while people debate,” Cody points out. The second Merrin is awake again, she’s going to want to move decisively. Cody is not about to stand in her way.

“All the more reason for us to get back up.”

Cody can concede that. He’s not got the first clue how to fight a witch and he’s guessing blasters aren’t going to cut it. “Fine. But you’re staying here. I’ll go after them.”

“Your funeral if Master Jinn catches you.”

Cody continues to not give a single vap about Qui-Gon Jinn. If he’s got an issue with strangers following Obi-Wan around to make sure he doesn’t die horribly then he should’ve considered that before abandoning the boy.

* * *

He tracks them down easily enough. Tracks them down and quickly makes sense of the faint silver coloring his own hairline. If Cal is right and Cody _was_ Obi-Wan’s commander, then scenes like this must be ingrained in his bones.

The boy is waiting outside a domestic building, hunched over and miserable, his mind, if not a million miles away then still far enough out of focus to leave him vulnerable.

Jinn must be inside; he’s left the boy again.

The boy, who by his own admission is still Head of Security for the fragile new government, a hero to many and the architect of their loss to others.

The attack is clearly not organized - one of opportunity, not planning.

Three men, older, battle-scarred and twisted with hate.

Cody snatches one of them by the back of the neck and slams him headfirst into the closest wall with enough force to knock him unconscious. From there, the heavy weight of unresponsive limbs makes an excellent projectile as he twists and throws all his strength into throwing the unconscious man into his companion before he can even finish drawing his blaster.

That’s two out of three, and the commotion draws Obi-Wan back into the present.

The third assailant is fast, drawing his blaster and raising it high. Obi-Wan doesn’t have a lightsaber; he can’t deflect the blasts. But he is a Jedi and though caught off guard, his reflexes are still far beyond boys his own age. He can duck, take cover, return fire...

Or maybe not. Cody’s brain is telling him that the boy will be fine, that he’s a fighter, a survivor, and that he’s got this.

His heart, more treacherous, isn’t having any of it. In a split second, he decides.

The shooter pulls his trigger.

Obi-Wan dives.

And Cody steps into the line of fire.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The alternative title for this part might as well be 'Yoda hustles everyone'.

_‘Honestly Cody, I’m perfectly fine. There’s no need to hover.”_

_‘You nearly died, sir.’_

_‘Nearly. But not quite. Now, where’s Che hidden my boots?’_

The healing rooms in the Jedi Temple are unique. Neither the brightly lit sterility of civilian hospitals nor the make-shift, blood-soaked chaos of a field tent. Warm amber lighting illuminates every corner of the open, soothing space, and the air itself feels weighted, a light, comforting pressure that’s both reassuring and empowering. The harsh chemical smells are washed away by fresh, clean air and each breath feels like a gift.

One of the Jedi healers, a young Twi'lek woman, appears the moment Cody opens his eyes. There are monitors surrounding the bed, each no doubt set up to show her every aspect of his physical wellbeing, but she still lays a hand above his chest, feeling for something beyond the visible and nodding in satisfaction when she finds what she’s looking for.

“How’re you feeling?” Her voice is soft and mellifluous, but there’s a well of strength in her eyes that tells him lying to her would be a mistake.

“Like I got hit by a speeder,” Cody grimaces. He takes stock of his senses and runs through the various aches and pains that have made themselves home in his body. He can feel the soft, sleepy undercurrent of a sedative, which makes it hard to make an accurate assessment, but if pushed he’ll go with a broken rib or two and heavy blaster burns.

He’s going to need new armor.

“Well I’m told getting shot will do that - no, don’t sit up yet. Let your body adjust to consciousness.”

He finds himself obeying by instinct more than anything. “Where are we?”

He knows. He shouldn’t know, but he does. He can’t remember this place, but he’s spent a lot of time here. There’s a chair by the far window that gives the best view of both patients and the entrance. He thinks he’s sat in it for more hours than he’s been in this bed.

“The Jedi Temple on Coruscant. You were brought here yesterday evening. I am Healer Vokara Che. And you are Cody, a man with a most puzzling genetic makeup.”

It’s a three day trip from Melida/Daan to Coruscant. Either he’s been that badly injured, or they’ve opted to keep him unconscious and comfortable while traveling. Neither possibility thrills him. “Obi-Wan.” He sits up, ignoring the dull ache in his chest. There’s no sign of the boy. He’s not injured then, that’s good, that’s-

“Peace,” Che calms, “Padawan Kenobi was summoned before the Council. Nothing else would convince him to leave your side."

So the boy is alive. Alive and unharmed. Something else strikes him. “The people I was traveling with?”

“Quite the motley crew,” Che says. “They are well. They spent the evening with Master Yoda and Master Windu. I believe they’ve been given accommodation. They checked in on you a few hours ago.”

So Merrin is clearly awake. A Nightsister in the heart of the Jedi Temple. That’s bound to go down well.

“Excuse me? Master Che?”

Relief uncoils in Cody’s chest. He knows instinctively that the boy is safe here, but seeing him provides a sense of calm that’s surprising in its intensity.

“Come in, Obi-Wan. Your friend is awake and well on the mend.”

The bruises on the boy’s face have all but faded, his smile no longer looking painful. Obi-Wan takes a seat beside Cody’s bed, nodding gratefully as Che steps away to give them some privacy.

Awkwardness fills the silence. The easy comradery he felt before is nowhere to be found. Calming someone in the middle of battle comes ease, but with the safety of the Temple comes space for a new, uneasy feeling. “So,” he says, growing more uncomfortable with every passing second. “What did I miss?”

“You got shot,” the words burst out of Obi-Wan as though he’s used all his energy just to keep them contained, “I stabbed a man. Master Qui-Gon and Master Cere brokered a peace agreement between the Young and the Elders. Your friend woke up and started an argument with Cal. You stopped breathing _twice_. Someone tried to murder Master Yoda. And I stole a ship to fly us all back here.”

There’s a lot to unpack there, not least of which is Obi-Wan stabbing someone. The matter of fact report is blunt. And furious.

“You’re angry with me. Didn’t think Jedi did anger.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow. “You took an unnecessary risk and nearly died because of it,” he says heatedly. “Besides, I’m not a Jedi anymore. I can be as angry as I like.”

“Saving your life is never an unnecessary risk,” Cody says firmly. “And what do you mean you’re not a Jedi?”

Everything in his heart is telling him this boy is _The_ Jedi. Unless their presence here has done more harm than good.

“The Council don’t believe I’m committed,” Obi-Wan says sullenly. “I don’t blame them. Why would they think otherwise? I just...” he breaks off with a heavy sigh. “Thank you. For saving my life. Please don’t do it again, I’m really not worth it.”

“We’re gonna beg to differ on that one, kid,” Cody says. He makes himself more comfortable among his pillows and settles in for the long haul. “Now come on, tell me everything.”

To his great surprise, he does. Openly and honestly and with the kind of breathless rambling that suggests he’s never been encouraged to unload his heart before. Cody listens patiently as Obi-Wan details his last day on Melida/Daan and how the attempted murder of another child unraveled a web of conspiracy from the boy’s own side. He whispers confessions of hurt that one of the children he sacrificed his future for turned so quickly against him and chokes on his grief when trying and failing to articulate the loss he felt as another friend died in his arms. Cody doesn’t need magic powers to feel the pain pouring from the boy as he bares his soul to a near stranger. Cody comes with no pre-conceived judgments of the Jedi or guilt of Obi-Wan’s perceived failure. He’s won the boy’s trust and is repaid in kind.

When they turn to the topic of the Temple, Obi-Wan’s own uncertainty and disappointments are overshadowed by fresh worry. Someone has tried to kill the Jedi Grandmaster. Cody might not know much about Jedi, but he knows enough, and it shatters his certainty that Obi-Wan is in no physical danger here in the Temple. If someone can gain access undetected and lay a trap for a Jedi Master, what might someone be able to do to a distracted apprentice?

“Master Qui-Gon is investigating,” Obi-Wan says. “I know he’ll find the culprit. He’s working with Master Tahl,” he lowers his eyes, “she’s the one we went to Melida/Daan to rescue. She’s very kind, she said she doesn’t blame me for what happened.” Master Tahl places herself on a very short list of people Cody might consider allies in his mission. “I just wish I could help.”

Looking for a way to distract Obi-Wan from his melancholy, Cody says, “You should go eat something,” he says, eying the sharp line of his collarbone, “and when you come back, I’ll teach you how to cheat at Sabacc.”

“A Jedi doesn’t cheat,” Obi-Wan says primly.

“Good thing you’re on a break from being a Jedi then, huh?” The tease is tentative. Obi-Wan doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t flinch either.

* * *

It takes some gentle pushing, but Obi-Wan eventually leaves in search of food and Cody seizes the chance to sleep off the last of the sedative’s influence. The next time Cody opens his eyes, Obi-Wan is nowhere to be seen. In his place, perched atop the chair beside the bunk, a small green being blinks at him serenely.

The bacta has done its job and the sedatives run their course, so he’s able to sit upright without any pain. “You must be Master Yoda.” One of the Council was sure to want to speak with him. This one looks harmless, which is probably the point.

“Must I?”

_‘Do all Jedi speak in riddles, sir?’_

_‘A riddle is but a song whose rhythm we’ve not yet learned.’_

_‘I’m sorry I asked.’_

Cody raises an eyebrow and says nothing. He’s not about to start a war of words and can’t risk alienating the people who control his access to Obi-Wan. He’s ready to wait Yoda out, his patience more than matched by the Jedi Master. Minutes pass in silence, heavy, but not awkward. When Yoda finally speaks, Cody thinks its more out of kindness than retreat. “Troubled, you are. Explained the situation, your friends did.”

“They’re not really my friends,” Cody says. He has no right to claim that association.

“Hmm. Have so many do you?”

“I have no one.” Its the truth, and it hurts. He wonders if this is how Cal and Cere feel, being the last of their kind? He used to be legion, now he is one. Loneliness is a strange sensation and it's not one he is built for.

“Not count, does Obi-Wan?” Cody looks away. How can he even start to explain himself when words are too fragile and insubstantial to carry the weight in his chest. “Connected, you two are. Know you, he does not. Fascinating.”

“That’s one word for it,” Cody says dryly.

“Return, your memories will. A blessing, perhaps not.”

“And if they do? What am I supposed to do with them? Change the future?”

“Your past, our future is. Change it you cannot. Create anew, you must. The Force will guide you.”

“I’m not exactly ‘one with the Force,” Cody points out.

Yoda smiles serenely. “Alone, are you?”

Yes, he’s about to say. But then he’s not, is he? If he’s to trust in something he can’t feel, who better to be stuck with than two Jedi and a witch?

A gentle rap on the door pulls Cody from his thoughts.

“Ah! Master Qui-Gon, come in, come in.” Yoda summons the tall Jedi Master into Cody’s room. Immediately, Cody resents the fact that he’s still in a bed. “Discussing young Obi-Wan, we were.”

Qui-Gon nods and folds his hands into the ends of his robes. _Obi-Wan does that._ This must be where he's picked it up.

“You have my thanks,” Qui-Gon says sincerely, warmth and honesty in his gaze as he looks down on Cody. “I’m in your debt.”

Sensing an opportunity, Cody jumps headfirst. “Where I come from, if you save someone’s life, they become your responsibility. I pledge my life to his.” It's more dramatic than he'd like, but it feels right. Yoda shuffles on his chair, smiling innocently.

Qui-Gon’s brows pull together in concern. “While I thank you again, and in no way wish to insult you or your culture, Obi-Wan is in need of no protection.”

“Trouble, that boy always finds,” Yoda points out. “Appreciated, extra hands must be.”

“Be that as it may-”

Yoda bangs his stick firmly against the side of the chair. “Obi-Wan's future, we have yet to decide; your padawan learner, he is not. Jedi, he is not. In need of a guardian, the boy is.”

There’s a well of hurt and frustration in Qui-Gon’s eyes that Cody isn’t prepared for. “It was my understanding the Council are prepared to be lenient, given the boy’s age.”

“Much to consider, there is. Meditate, we must. Alone, the boy cannot be.”

Qui-Gon shakes his head. He’s carefully focusing on Yoda now, not Cody, and it’s clear he is wary of the conversation being aired in front of a stranger.“He won’t be alone.”

Yoda shakes his head. “A mission, you already have, Qui-Gon. Peace, the boy needs. Safety. Deep hurt, his heart has taken.”

“Surely then comfort should come from those who know him best?”

“And it shall. Trust in the Force, you must.”

Cody half expects the discussion to continue. Instead, Qui-Gon bows deeply and departs without further comment.

“Stubborn, he is,” Yoda says, shuffling around on the chair until he’s facing Cody once more. “Alike, you are.” Cody’s about to say something ungracious when Obi-Wan arrives, clutching a pack of Sabacc cards.

“Master Yoda?” He looks absolutely petrified to see the Grandmaster.

Yoda taps the side of Cody’s bed with his stick, this time more gently. “Participate, I shall,” he says cheerfully.

“You... want to play Sabacc, Master?” Obi-Wan couldn’t look more horrified if he tried.

“Old I am, new tricks I must learn!”

Cody narrows his eyes. He’s heard that before. He _knows_ he’s heard that before.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone waiting to see the Mantis crew again, I promise they will be back in action next chapter.   
> To everyone who hates cliffhangers... Hannah said to make the chapter extra mean :D  
> And to everyone who has left a review, thank you so very much!

_‘This is my favorite place in the Temple. I took it for granted when I was younger. I never understood how precious peace truly is. I can’t give you much, Commander; I can’t even promise you freedom when the war is over, but I hope you can accept this invitation, a poor substitute though it may be. You’ve never known peace, my friend, but perhaps you can discover some here?’_

The Room of a Thousand Fountains is breathtaking.

Cody is as Force-sensitive as a proton blast to the face. He doesn’t feel the world the way Jedi feel it. He lives in it as it is, accepts what is beyond him and carries on. But here?

Stepping into this room feels like a loving welcome to a home he’s always craved. He _feels_. Everything. A connection he can’t verbalize, a need he’s never known suddenly fulfilled. Life wraps him in the purest light and sings with the melody of running water and tiny bells caught on a breeze.

He’s not an emotional man, not one prone to shedding tears even when his heart aches with emptiness and loss, but in this room, called to a place that offers serenity and peace, his eyes burn fiercely.

Obi-Wan, showing for the first time the true carelessness of youth, chatters at his side, oblivious to Cody’s emotional rebellion. His voice is quiet, soft in reverence of the space, but he’s been eagerly telling Cody stories all morning and there’s no sign he’s ready to stop soon. He gets the impression that ‘chatty’ isn’t a normal state for the boy and puts it down to continued nerves over his status within the Order.

Master Yoda, as well as being a no-good cheating dwang heap, is a spectacularly skilled manipulator and Cody’s new favorite person. He’s lost credits and dignity, but Obi-Wan’s near-crippling fear of the Council has died in the face of the Master’s shameless cheating. The righteous indignation of a wronged teenager has combined with a genuine childish delight in witnessing another side to the revered Master. It’s smoothed the edges of Obi-Wan’s fear in a way no words of reassurance possibly can.

It’s not completely soothed his anxiety, but he’ll take nervous chatter over internalized fear any day.

The small Mon Calamari on Obi-Wan’s other side seems to be in agreement. Cody’s been introduced to all of Obi-Wan’s friends that morning, or at least the ones on the planet and he’s relieved to see Obi-Wan relax even further once in the safety of their company. Now Darsha Assant and Garen Muln have gone to their respective classes, leaving Bant Eerin, the youngest of their little group, as the only Initiate free to accompany Cody and Obi-Wan on their tour of the Temple.

She occasionally turns her big silver eyes on him, curious and wary and grateful in equal measure. Jedi Masters might be adept at schooling their features to impassive calm, but Jedi Initiates clearly have a way to go; she’s even easier to read than Obi-Wan, who wears his bleeding heart on his sleeve.

“Have you been to the Temple before, sir?”

“Cody’s fine,” he grunts. “Why do you ask?” He’s almost certain he’s learned that from a Jedi: ask your own question when avoiding answering one. No, he’s never been here before. Yes, he thinks this might once have been the closest thing to home.

“You don’t look like you’re lost yet,” Bant smiles. “Most people get pretty turned around their first time.”

“Some of us still do,” Obi-Wan teases her, laughing as she smacks him lightly with her elbow.

“I’m not the one who ended up in the restricted section of the archives in the middle of the night,” she laughs.

Cody raises an eyebrow and grins at Obi-Wan’s blush.

“I used to sleepwalk,” he admits, quickly turning back to Bant, “and who is it that uses the underwater service lines to get to class when she’s running late?”

Banty splutters in playful indignation, the two children happily lost in their teasing and missing the look of horror Cody’s struggling to contain.

_Sleepwalking_? _Used to?_

He needs allies. He needs to establish a twenty-four-hour watch with regular reports on the boy’s safety and whereabouts. He’s mentally putting together an argument to take to Yoda and wonders for a second if he can blackmail the cheating Master into agreeing. Not that anyone is ever going to believe him...

“-dy, are you okay?” Obi-Wan’s concerned gaze startles him from his furious plotting.

“Fine, kid,” he shelves this problem for later analysis and gives the boy his full attention. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“We were talking about the robberies,” he says, “and who tried to kill Master Yoda.”

Bant shivers then smiles as Obi-Wan presses his arm against hers.

Cody’s about to offer some reassurance when both Jedi suddenly snap their heads around in alarm. Moments later there’s a horrific screech of metal followed by an echoing twang of snapping cables.

The Room of a Thousand Fountains is at the heart of the Jedi Temple and a number of floors have balconies that look out on it from above. Turbolifts run silently between levels making access easy.

One of them now hangs precariously, sparks and smoke billowing from the snapped connectors that hold it in its tracks.

“That lift runs from the creche,” Bant gasps. She and Obi-Wan snap into motion, sprinting towards the damaged lift.

“Bant!” Obi-Wan shouts.

She nods. “I’ll alert the Council - I can take the service lines, I’ll be fastest.”

“Go!” Obi-Wan nods. Cody should be able to keep pace with Obi-Wan - his legs are a lot longer - but the teenager sprints off faster than he can keep up with, the Force aiding his movements in a way no amount of training will ever achieve for Cody. “Come on!”

They take the stairs, the mid-morning peace and quiet of the Temple now a hindrance in their rescue effort.

They reach the closest level to the stranded lift and Cody follows Obi-Wan out onto the balcony. The lift hasn’t fallen, still hanging precariously by its last safety line. There’s no sign of any senior Jedi, which casts Cody in the role of the only adult in attendance. He thinks he’s justified then, both as an adult and as someone trying his best to keep Obi-Wan alive, in nearly undoing all of Healer Che’s work when Obi-Wan swings himself over the edge of the balcony and jumps several feet into the air.

“What are you doing?” His throat is raw, bruised from the sudden impact of his heart, which beats faster than it has in any battle.

Obi-Wan hangs easily from one of the support beams that run up the side of the liftshaft. “It’s going to fall,” he says, and yes, it probably is, but that’s no reason for the boy to pick a fight with gravity and fall with it. “We need to get them out!”

Now Cody can see what Obi-Wan is trying to do, he can see the logic in the boy’s thinking. He doesn’t like it, oh how he does _not_ like it but, by this point, there is little he can do to stop Obi-Wan from dangling a hundred meters above the gardens below.

Obi-Wan climbs up and swings his legs over the beam he’s grasped. From there, he moves swiftly along the narrow metal until he can grasp the side of the lift and ease open the escape hatch at the top. Cody’s not close enough to hear the conversation that follows, but a moment later Obi-Wan is heading back towards the balcony, a small child held carefully in his arms.

Feeling the gray hairs on his head multiply with every passing second, Cody reaches up and lets Obi-Wan hand him the child. Jedi children are something else. This one, a little human girl of three or four, blinks at him with wide, curious eyes and stays quite contentedly where Cody sets her down, as quiet and calm as someone ten times her age.

“You’re safe, little one,” Cody promises, trying to look less like a man who has lived his entire life on a battlefield and more like one who might be unintimidating to a toddler.

“Hello,” she says sweetly. “I’m Ellana.”

Jedi. They’re all insane.

“Cody,” he says, moving back to the edge of the balcony. There’s no way he has the balance to do what Obi-Wan is doing and is probably too heavy to even attempt it, but the voice in the back of his head is making it crystal clear that he should be the one risking life and limb here, not Obi-Wan. 

Three more children follow in quick succession, then a fourth, held tightly in the hands of an adult Jedi. The little ones quickly rush to their caretaker once he is safely on the balcony, leaving Cody to focus on Obi-Wan.

Terrifying seconds pass with no sign of the boy, and then -

“Here,” Obi-Wan says, reaching down to hand Cody the last of the children.

He’s just passed the little girl over to her carer when Merrin throws a speeder into the engine.

The witch appears out of nowhere, coiled in power and crackling green energy. Obi-Wan, halfway between standing surefooted on the beam and swinging down towards the balcony, flinches violently in surprise.

His grip falters and Cody has just enough time to see the fear fill his eyes as he falls.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue to madly rehash events from The Captive Temple and Cody realizes that he and Qui-Gon have far more in common than expected.

Time seems to slow as Obi-Wan falls. It’s happened before, in the heat of battle. Moments stretching for eternity as Cody tries and so frequently fails to avert catastrophe.

This time it’s different. It’s not time that’s slowing, it’s not fear and adrenaline colliding in his heart. It’s Obi-Wan himself. For a second he simply hovers in the air, a second snatched and forced into stillness. It means Cody can throw himself at the barrier ringing the balcony, reach out his arms and haul Obi-Wan back to safety. His efforts knock them both to the ground, safe behind the barrier, the boy held firmly in Cody’s bruising grip.

Looking over his shoulder, Cody can see Cal standing a few meters away, his hand outstretched and a look of quiet focus on his face. His little droid peers over his shoulder and beeps happily at the sight of them both returned to safety.

Still entwined with flashing green light, the witch mutters words in a strange tongue, her eyes and mouth suddenly aglow with eerie flames. Her power wraps itself around the lift, twisting and reforming snapped cables and bent metal until the damage is no longer existant.

Obi-Wan’s looking up at her with his mouth open and unconcealed awe in his expression.

Cody just needs a second to force his heart to stop screaming at him. This kid is going to be the death of him.

Suddenly aware that she’s the center of their attention, Merrin drops down to the balcony and frowns. “You said I should be helpful,” she says to Cal. “That was helpful!”

“That was amazing,” Obi-Wan breathes.

It was something alright. Cody closes his eyes and takes a slow, careful breath. His kind age far more rapidly than humans but those few seconds might have just tripled the process.

“Thank you, small Jedi,” Merrin says.

“It _was_ helpful,” Cal says carefully. “We just maybe need to work on the whole popping up out of thin air thing?”

The sound Merrin makes is one of disgust. “You are testing my patience.”

“I know, I know,” Cal soothes. “You’re doing good. Great!”

“Obi-Wan!”

The boy is climbing to his feet, a hand held out to help Cody rise, when Qui-Gon Jinn and what Cody imagines is half the Jedi Council suddenly pour onto the balcony.

At that moment, Cody thinks Yoda might be right about something: he and Jinn _are_ alike. The look in the Jedi Master’s eyes is a perfect mirror of Cody’s own fear.

Any question as to whether Jinn cares for the boy is silenced. He cares. He cares a great deal.

And he clearly has no idea how to show it.

In the presence of his Master and so many of the Council, Obi-Wan tries to do what all good Jedi are supposed to do. He stands straight and serious, his voice level and calm as he explains the situation and each of their roles in handling it.

It’s taken Cody and Yoda hours to bring some relief and stability to the boy and in mere moments, all that work is undone.

“What were you thinking?” Qui-Gon demands, towering over his apprentice. “I told you to stay out of trouble!”

“But Master, I thought-”

“No, Obi-Wan, you didn't think. You never think! You dive recklessly without thought or consideration for the consequences.” Jinn isn’t wrong. Obi-Wan gave no thought to his own safety when trying to save the children in the turbo-lift. A part of Cody wants to shake some sense into the boy even as he sympathizes with the fear and frustration in Jinn’s gaze. The Master’s voice is carefully controlled, almost cold, but it’s clear to Cody that Jinn is struggling to contain his anger.

_‘Fear leads to anger, my friend.’_

Obi-Wan doesn’t see the fear, only the cold fury in his Master’s expression.

The boy’s face flushes. “I did think,” he says quietly. “The younglings were in danger. If the lift had fallen -”

“Did it?” Jinn demands. The Council has made no interruption. Jinn might not be Obi-Wan’s Master in an official capacity, but they are acting as though the right to reprimand is still his. It’s that reason alone that keeps Cody silent - he too is angry with the boy, and he respects the chain of command. “Did the lift fall?”

“N-no, it-” Obi-Wan looks around helplessly.

“You risked your life with no good cause, and what’s worse, you risked the lives of others as well. Why? Was this some selfish attempt to prove that you are capable? Trustworthy? Because I can tell you now it has done just the opposite.”

The flush of anger drains from Obi-Wan’s face, leaving him pale and looking painfully young. His eyes gleam with tears and Cody can no longer remain uninvolved. He moves quickly, placing a strong hand on the teen’s trembling shoulder. He doesn’t challenge Jinn verbally, but his presence surprises the Master and forces him to take a step back in order to meet Cody’s gaze.

He seems to realize that he’s been looming over the boy, regret flooding his gaze as he takes a slow, careful breath.

“Obi-Wan-” he takes a cautious step forward. Obi-Wan flinches, pressing back against Cody, and his Master freezes.

“Discuss this later, you two shall,” Yoda’s voice quietly cuts through the tension. “Urgent session of the Council we must call. Your attention, Qui-Gon.” Yoda doesn’t wait for a response. The rest of the Council depart, leaving the ancient Master to approach the younglings who wait just out of earshot. He clearly adores all of his students and he sees the same respect and awe in the little ones' expression as he sometimes sees in Obi-Wan’s. It’s an open, honest, gentle display of affection, one Obi-Wan so clearly craves from his own Master.

“You have my thanks, again,” Jinn says to Cody. “And you, young Knight.” Cal shuffles and squirms under the attention. “We will speak later, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes Ma- Sir.” Obi-Wan’s voice is sullen and quiet. He doesn’t see the way Jinn visibly recoils from the address. He departs without further word, silently sweeping down the hall.

The little droid chirps sadly.

“Hey,” Cal lays a gentle hand on Obi-Wan’s other shoulder. “Cheer up kid, this isn’t the end, I promise.”

“Boop beep beep!”

“BD’s right. There’s... a lot happening right now. Everyone is on edge. He’ll come round.”

“Maybe I’m just not meant to be a Jedi?” Obi-Wan says miserably. “Master Qui-Gon clearly thinks I’m not. He never wanted me in the first place.”

That may or may not be true, but no matter their origins, it's clear to Cody that Jinn is now more likely to be suffering from a surplus of emotion, not a lack. 

Chuckling, the young Knight shakes his head. “You know I used to think the same thing? I didn’t get picked as a Padawan until I was nearly thirteen.” Grief flashes in his eyes before a kind smile settles as a mask over his pain.

Obi-Wan looks up, curious. “Really? But you’re a Knight! And you’re so young!”

“My apprenticeship was... unconventional,” Cal says carefully. “But yeah, I was this close to aging out," he holds up his fingers, only millimeters apart, "and even when I was chosen I always felt like I wasn’t quite good enough.” His smile softens further. Beside him, Merrin is hanging on every word. “I got the same speech from everyone-”

“Be patient? Trust the Force? What will be will be?” Obi-Wan offers, far too bitter for one so young.

“That’s the one,” Cal laughs. “And they were right of course, but do you know what made me feel better?” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “There was a Master I knew, a great Jedi - some even said the greatest. I didn’t see him very often, he was frequently away on missions, but he was kind and gentle and wise, an incredible warrior and a brilliant diplomat. He was trusted with the most important tasks and always had a million and one things to occupy his time with, but when he could he’d come and speak with us. We all wanted to grow up and be just like him.” Cal’s expression turns to the past, a bittersweet edge to his smile that makes Cody’s heart ache. “He found me one day. I’d gotten upset because I’d been passed over again and I was sure I’d never be chosen. He told me that he once felt the same way, that once no one had wanted him.”

“I thought you said-”

“That he was brilliant? He was. Maybe no one saw it back then, or maybe he was so good because he’d fought to become so. I don’t know. But he said if he could do it, then I could too. So... here’s me passing on the torch. You are going to be a great Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi. But if you don't believe it, then I’ll believe it for you until you do.”

_‘I’m not taking another padawan, Mace. The first one nearly killed me as it is.’_

_‘Hey! I was a delight!’_

_'Oh, you were something alright.'_

_‘The younglings adore you, Kenobi. You should think about it.’_

_‘It’s true Master, you have a fanclub.’_

_‘I listen to them, that’s all. Something you might want to try with your own padawan, perhaps?’_

Obi-Wan’s overwhelmed, his chin trembling in the face of Cal’s quiet confidence. He doesn’t know what Cal knows, and he doesn’t have the context to read between the lines as Cody does.

Obi-Wan Kenobi clearly changed Cal Kestis’s life, and now Cal is returning the favor. Cody’s never going to be able to repay him. And he's never been more certain in his belief that this boy is someone he's supposed to fight for.

“You don’t even know me,” Obi-Wan whispers.

Merrin, speaking for the first time, says, “He is wise.” Then, throwing a side glance at Cal, rolls her eyes and adds, “When he is not foolish.”

“Beep bop!”

“Thanks, guys.” Cal raises his palm up to his shoulder and beams as the little droid presses against it. “So then,” he prompts Obi-Wan, “what are you gonna do, Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan looks thoughtful. It’s a very serious, very adult look on such a young face. “Behave like a Jedi,” he says slowly, “even if no one else thinks I am.”

“Alright,” Cal grins. “So what’s the plan?”

Confidence starts to creep slowly back into the boy’s posture. It’s a shadow of what he’s one day going to be, but at that moment Cody sees the seeds of a man he’ll follow into the void itself. Whatever he wants to do, Cody will see done. Anything to keep that pain and insecurity at bay.

“Find out who is attacking the Temple,” Obi-Wan says firmly. “And stop them.”

Because of course, the boy is going to go looking for trouble. 

Sighing deeply, Cody makes his choice. "So where do we start?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should warn you... somehow this one little story has become a sprawling monstrosity with at least four parts. Whoops!
> 
> A small note for this chapter - at the point in which they all came back in time, Obi-Wan was considered very dead. Cere might be a little harsh here, but she's also the responsible adult of the crew!
> 
> Thank you again for your lovely comments!

Obi-Wan’s plan hits a blockade almost immediately. Or rather, it hits three of them. The first is Merrin, who is happy enough to help repair broken lifts but less enthusiastic about jumping on board ‘Jedi business’.

“I will not abandon my people to play amateur detective,” she says sharply. “We have our own mission, Cal.”

“We have years,” Cal points out gently. “Literally years. We’re _here_ for a reason, remember?”

She scowls and turns away, her sharp chin stubbornly raised.

Obi-Wan almost breaks something in his earnest attempt to let them off the hook. “You’ve been so much help already,” he enthuses, “I couldn’t possibly ask you to stay if you’re needed elsewhere.”

“Nice try kid,” Cody grumbles. Like he's going anywhere. 

“It’s fine, buddy, seriously.” Cal’s pointed look at the witch comes with an exaggerated jerk of his head as he prompts her to say something.

She doesn’t exactly jump with enthusiasm, but eventually, she relents. “Fine. We save your Jedi. Then I get to kill my enemies.”

Cal beams at her. “Once we’re done here you can kill anyone you want!” Obi-Wan stares at him. “Wait, that came out wrong-”

“Bee boop boop!”

“That’s not helping, BD.” Cal looks around helplessly for support and finds only Obi-Wan’s piqued curiosity and Cody’s tried and tested parade face. Grimacing, he says, “What I mean is, let’s help Obi-Wan protect the Temple, and then we can deal with _our_ problem, yeah?”

“It would be my honor to repay your kindness,” Obi-Wan says seriously. “I’ll help however I can, even if I’m not a Jedi.” He’s completely oblivious to Cody’s increasingly twitchy eyebrow. Every time he thinks he’s reached a level of sympathetic understanding for Jinn, Obi-Wan has to go and say something like that. How in the Sith Hells did an experienced Master ever think a boy like Obi-Wan - eager and helpful and in possession of less self-preservation than an intoxicated porg - could be left alone in the middle of a war zone? So far he’s watched Obi-Wan launch himself off a balcony, walk headfirst into an armed conflict and now all but pledge his help to a ragtag group of strays so collectively out of place it’s a miracle they aren’t in Jedi jail already. That’s in less than a week. The boy places no value on his life at all.

How long has he been with Jinn? Less than a year.

_‘Commander, you realize it’s a little difficult to use me as bait when you’re hovering like that?’_

_‘I don’t like this plan, sir.’_

_‘As you’ve said. It’s not my favorite, either. I am sorry my friend. I promise not to die horribly.’_

_‘Thank you, sir. It’s a lot of paperwork if you do.’_

_‘... You’re spending far too much time around Anakin and Rex.’_

Blockade number two comes in the form of Cere.

Cody’s not seen the Jedi Master or her little friend since returning from Melida/Daan. He understands from Yoda that she’s taken point in conveying their situation and all associated complications to the Council. As she knows both the Mantis crew and the timeline of events that are a black hole in Cody’s mind, he’s okay with that. From what he’s seen she’s competent and eloquent, she has the trust of her crew. Cody can spin a good field report but he doesn’t have the first clue how to start accounting for magic, time travel or the Force. It’s best left to the expert.

Unfortunately, the expert doesn’t seem as keen as Cal to be a part of Obi-Wan’s mission.

Almost colliding with her as they round the corner, her expression is both pained and weary. Cal quickly fills her in on their plans, clearly anticipating her help. Instead, she smiles kindly at Obi-Wan. “Would you mind if I had a moment with my crew?” she asks.

Obi-Wan might mind very much and would probably drink poison before admitting it. "Of course, Master Junda.” He bows deeply. “I'll be in the Archives.” That last part is more hesitant.

“BD, why don’t you go too? See if you can’t get a head start?”

“Boop boop!” The little droid wiggles and bounces off Cal’s shoulder, launching itself fearlessly into Obi-Wan’s arms. The boy hugs him close and bows again before leaving.

Cody starts to follow before he’s called back. “You too please, Cody,” Cere calls.

He’s been told he’s got a scowl that can make a droid cry, but Cere doesn’t so much as twitch. If there as ever a point when the likes of Cody might intimidate her then she’s long past it.

“What is it, Cere? Have the Council-”

“You cannot get involved with that boy,” Cere says. Her voice, though not unkind, is firm. “I understand why you’re trying to help him, but we have to be careful.”

“Why?” Surprisingly, it’s Merrin who speaks first. “We came back to change things. Or at least I did. If the Jedi wish to court their own destruction I will not stop them.”

“Then why did you bring us here?” Cere asks her. “If saving your people was your intention then why are we not on Dathomir?”

It’s a fair point. They don’t know anything about the artifact that brought them back. They don’t even know if it responded to Merrin’s command or Cody’s desire. He’s the one that found it. Maybe they are here because of him, not her? “I don’t know,” Merrin says with clear reluctance.

“You brought us to the most decorated hero of the Clone Wars,” Cere points out. “To the first Jedi in a thousand years to kill a Sith Lord - to the _only_ Jedi, other than his own apprentice, to kill a Sith Lord. We would have lost the war a dozen times over if not for Kenobi. We cannot risk losing that edge.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Cody demands, already suspecting and not liking it.

“I’m _saying_ that every interference in his life is altering the path he walks. The tactics he will develop are rooted in his experiences. Cal, you studied his technique, just as Trilla did.”

Cal scuffs the ball of his foot against the ground in a nervous tick that should’ve been trained out of him years earlier. “We all did.”

“He was strong enough to survive multiple encounters with the Sith and clever enough to learn from each one. We, in turn, learned from him.” She looks and sounds so earnest, kind and pained even as she delivers such cold truths.

“So what? We stand back and watch him suffer in situations we know we can change because we benefit from it?” Cody demands. “That doesn’t sound like the Jedi way.”

Cere’s gaze turns on him, history sharpening her expression until it is hostile enough to draw blood. “And what would you know of it, Clone?”

“Cere,” Cal says softly, “Cody was Obi-Wan’s Commander. If they were anything like Tricks and Master Tapal...”

“Then you’ve killed him once already,” Cere says to Cody cooly. “It doesn’t matter what you do now, his blood will always be on your hands.”

And there Obi-Wan’s mission hits blockade number three.

Cody doesn’t wait to hear Cal’s protest or to see the regret in Cere’s expression. He rounds on his heels and dismisses himself from the conversation, panic clawing its way up his throat.

She’s not wrong, is she? She must be. That isn’t what happened. He would never kill Obi-Wan. If what he feels for this boy is a shadow of what he felt for the man, it’s not possible.

He’d put a blaster to his own head first.

His hand raises of its own volition, his fingers hesitantly touching the still-tender skin that’s knitted together at the base of his skull.

_‘Execute Order 66.’_

Cody breaks out into a sprint, the words rattling around his head, ricocheting off memories and emotions that have no tethers.

He’s a good soldier. A loyal soldier. The Jedi were traitors to the Republic. Enemies of the Empire. They were...

No. _No_. Obi-Wan was his General. His commanding officer. The army was legitimized by the Senate, it’s rank and structure heavily regulated and observed. If Obi-Wan was a traitor then he would’ve been court-marshaled.

_‘Execute Order 66.’_

A kill order. One implanted in his mind before the war ever began. One that lay dormant by design.

He’s not a soldier, he’s a sleeper. An assassin welcomed with open arms and kind eyes.

It’s why he wanted the chip gone, why he’s so drawn to the child Obi-Wan Kenobi once was.

He wasn’t created to be Obi-Wan’s protector, he was designed to be his murderer.

He didn’t fail his mission.

He did his duty, betrayed his General, and damned the Galaxy.

His feet bring him back to the Room of a Thousand Fountains but this time there is no peace within the Jedi’s sacred space.

It’s not just a whisper that haunts him now, but a voice as sure and solid as his own heartbeat and a figure he can see just out of the corner of his eye.

He spins, grasping familiar brown robes as his legs struggle to hold his weight.

A shot rings out in his mind and while he flinches now he knows he didn’t then.

Strong hands catch him by his elbows. “Whoah, easy friend.”

Obi-Wan was his first friend. The first man to ask his name and remember it, the first to offer a helping hand and a kind word. The first to treat him as a person in his own right.

And Cody killed him. Not because he wanted to, but because he was told to.

The witch is right: Cody doesn’t care how powerful the Sith are; he’s going to tear them apart with his bare hands.

Those strong hands carry him down, supporting him easily until his knees hit the grass and he can feel the earth beneath him. They don’t let go, not until Cody stops shaking.

It might be minutes, it might be hours.

When he can finally raise his head, he’s met with the piercing eyes of Qui-Gon Jinn.

"I think, my friend, it’s time we had a talk.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*

Talk. Jinn wants to _talk_. What is there to talk about? Cody’s a murderer. He killed his General, his friend _, and then forgot about it,_ escaping the guilt and blame to lock the truth away behind a wall of fear and cowardice. What right does he have to question Jinn’s behavior? He might be reckless with Obi-Wan’s emotions and careless with his safety, but he’s never harmed him. He never would.

“You’ve got to protect him,” Cody mumbles. He’ll beg if he has to. Jinn has to do better, be better because it’s already too late for Cody to make that change.

Jinn’s brow furrows. “I have no intention of letting Obi-Wan come to any harm,” he says gently, knowing without question who they are discussing. A bitter laugh breaks free before Cody can stop it. “That amuses you?”

“Nothing about any of this is funny,” Cody shakes his head. He doesn't know how to start. He barely knows _where_ to start. “What did you think would happen when you left him on that planet?”

The open compassion on Jinn’s face vanishes behind a wall of polite impassiveness. “The situation on Melida/Daan was more complex than you know. Obi-Wan made a choice. Whether I understand it or not, whether he’s able to move on from it-”

“What choice did you make, Master Jedi?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t give a shab what his reasons were,” Cody growls, anger driving away helplessness and giving him a focal point to aim for. “He’s a kid; kids mess up, even Jedi kids. I’m asking _you,_ Qui-Gon Jinn, what you thought would happen to an unarmed thirteen-year-old boy left alone in the middle of a war.”

Jinn’s jaw tenses, but that’s the only indication that Cody’s words are having an impact. “I know he appears a child to you,” he says slowly, “but Obi-Wan is highly skilled and well trained. He is smart and resourceful and given he won the war for the Young I’d say your concerns, while understandable, are misplaced.”

Memories of his General flood his consciousness, Kenobi’s infuriating inability to respect his own physical limits and show himself the care and compassion he insisted his men experience. He sees the foundations for those stratosphere high tolerances being dug with each word Jinn speaks. Cody’s General might’ve famously been a handful, but his selflessness was hardly a singular trait. Most of the Jedi Cody knew were similarly so afflicted. Is it any wonder when they are raised as such? Cody looks at the boy and sees just that - a child, a very capable one, but one still in need of all the things children need. Safety. Security. Love. Affection.

Jinn looks at Obi-Wan and sees a Jedi.

“You’ve seen war,” Cody says quietly. Jinn’s whole demeanor conveys his experiences; he’s seen war, seen suffering, and somehow found a compassionate detachment. He can empathize with, even care for those suffering, but he can still draw a line between duty and desire. It’s why he could walk away and Obi-Wan could not.

He knows that changes. He knows Obi-Wan will one day make the same choices.

And he knows, by virtue of holding the man’s friendship, how very much it cost him each time.

Does Jinn pay that price?

Is this it?

The Master nods cautiously. “I have.”

“Then you know that death could’ve been the least tragic thing to happen to him out there. I don’t care if he’s the most capable Jedi in the history of your Order: you abandoned a Core World child - a well educated, well-trained, Force-sensitive Core World Child - on an Outer Rim planet that had been in the grip of Civil War for years. A boy like Obi-wan would've made some people a lot of credits. How would that have worked for you? You finally go back to pick him up and he’s vanished into the Underworld. Or would you not have gone back if he’d not begged you to help him?”

He’s no harsher than Jinn deserves, but he can take no satisfaction from the way the man flinches back in horror.

The Obi-Wan Cody knew was considered one of the greatest fighters of the Order, yet time and time again, he’d been beaten, tortured, tormented and attacked by the very worst the Galaxy had to offer. The idea of an unbeatable, untouchable, invulnerable Jedi Master didn’t live beyond the first time his General coughed up a mouthful of blood over Cody's chest plate, broken bones and a punctured lung considered a mere inconvenience to a man who has clearly learned young how to fight through his pain.

Before Jinn can answer, he suddenly looks up. It’s a sharp, worried movement, his eyes narrowing as Obi-Wan’s small friend comes tearing up to them. “Master Jinn! Master Jinn!” 

Something's wrong.

Their conversation is immediately shelved. Jinn catches the girl by her shoulders, almost bent in two to avoid appearing threatening. “What is it Bant?”

“Obi-Wan! It’s Obi-Wan!”

* * *

Fifty-two minutes. That’s how long Obi-Wan has been out of Cody’s sight. That’s how long it’s taken him to find more trouble. Almost a whole hour. He’d be begrudging - and irritatedly - impressed if that were his General. Now, he’s not sure if he’s furious or petrified, or if this new wave of nausea is a combination of the two.

Bant leads them deep into the Temple, into places Cody hasn’t been shown on his recent tour or during his service in the war. They’re service areas, off-limits to visitors and students alike.

When Jinn asks why Obi-Wan was even down here, Cody finds himself asking the same question.

“I met him in the Archives,” Bant says as they hurry down another corridor. “He and BD-1 were looking for connections between the attempt on Master Yoda’s life and the attack on the turbo lift. They got access to the security footage, but it had been tampered with.”

“That’s something that shouldn't be accessible to anyone without the proper authorization,” Jinn says, his eyebrow rising incredulously, “unless accessed illegally.” Bant pales, and her chin wobbles dangerously at the thought of getting Obi-Wan in trouble. She doesn’t need to worry, Obi-Wan manages to get in trouble perfectly well on his own.

"We were only trying to help," she says, her voice small. "Obi-Wan thought that..." she trails off and sniffs. When Jinn catches Cody's eye, he puts every furious, uncharitable opinion of Jinn into his scowl. _This is your fault._

“I’m not angry with him,” Jinn promises, ignoring Cody's anger. The unspoken ‘yet’ is loud and clear. “Please, just tell me what you know.”

After a second of hesitation, she continues. They’re now in the very heart of the Temple, Cody’s anxiety growing with every corner turned. “BD-1 did something and unscrambled the doctored footage. We saw someone. Well, two someones.”

“Who?”

“I recognized Bruck,” Bant says softly. “He let someone into one of the service hatches that run under the Room of a Thousand Fountains.”

“A boy in Obi-Wan’s class,” Jinn explains, catching Cody’s look of confusion. “I suppose you’d call them rivals.”

“Bruck hates Obi-Wan,” Bant says fiercely. “He always has. It’s even worse now.”

Jinn looks troubled, but he doens’t linger on the subject. If he knows more about the relationship between the two boys, he says nothing. Cody’ll have to ask Bant himself when he gets the chance. “Tell me about the other person,” he prompts.

“A man,” Bant says. “Obi-Wan recognized him. We followed the footage, saw that he came down here to the central grid. Obi-Wan made me run and get you, only I-” she looks away, her large eyes swimming with tears. “I followed him. Something didn’t feel right.”

“Who was he, Bant?” Jinn pushed, sensing the urgency of her unspoken words.

She shakes her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. “They attacked us. I don’t carry a lightsaber so Obi told me to run and I-”

They’ve come to a stop in front of large doors. Signs on both of them make it clear that the area is off-limits due to the dangerous equipment inside.

Kneeling in front of the distraught girl, Jinn is a beacon of calm and serenity in the sea of chaos and fear Cody is threatening to drown in. “Tell me his name,” he says calmly.

Bant swallows. “Xanatos,” she says. “Obi-Wan said his name was Xanatos.”

Jinn is on his feet before Cody can clock the movement, charging through the doors and calling Obi-Wan’s name, a hand at his hip, ready to fight.

Cody’s never heard the name Xanatos before. Jinn clearly has. Whoever he is, his name has brought fear to the Jedi’s eyes. That’s enough to tell Cody what kind of man they are dealing with. He follows, wishing desperately for a weapon but not about to let the lack of one stop him.

Inside the brightly lit room, centered in the middle and surrounded by the machinery that keeps the Temple powered, a Jedi Initiate lays sprawled, groaning as he stirs.

BD-1 all but shrieks at the sight of them, hopping from one leg to the other, a sparking electrical prong extending from his base unit. He’s clearly the reason the Initiate is groaning, or part of the reason at least. The boy’s lightsaber is deactivated by his side.

Besides it, another lightsaber rests, equally abandoned.

There’s no sign of this Xanatos.

But more importantly, there’s no sign of Obi-Wan either.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the end, but don't worry! There is lots more planned for this series!

Cody’s memories are coming back thick and fast, old grief coiling around new fear even as his body does what it was ultimately designed to do: assimilate, adapt, fight on. He’s going to need what Rex used to cheekily call a ‘vocalization of mission-critical emotions’ sooner rather than later, but so far he’s managing to stay upright, alert, and really karked off with everyone from the Jedi High Council down.

With old memories comes the realization that his frustration is nothing new. The Council, during the final months of the Clone War, had managed to test even Obi-Wan’s infamous calm. Relentless campaigns, limited sleep and even more limited access to both meditation time and his favorite tea and you have a General that even Skywalker knew better than to irritate. He wonders what Skywalker would make all of this, wonders if his almost possessive protectiveness stems from watching Obi-Wan throw himself into danger throughout his own childhood.

Knowing Skywalker, someone would likely be bleeding by now.

He misses Skywalker’s brash recklessness and Ashoka’s bold courage. He misses his brothers.

He misses his General.

Cody isn't built to be alone.

Yet here he is.

“ _Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.”_

Obi-Wan found him sitting watch over a dozen dead shinies once, still covered in the blood and dirt of the battlefield. He whispered the words with the careful enunciation of someone who was once, many years before, fluent in the language. _"I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal"_

Cody was willing to die for him from day one. With those words came the joyful knowledge that he’d do so with a song in his heart.

He’s alone now. Everyone he has ever loved is dead, many of them because of Cody. In their names, he gathers his pain and lets it burn inside him as an inextinguishable flame.

His general is dead. This child, this _adiik,_ still lives.

The Jedi Temple dissolves into carefully controlled chaos, the potential kidnapping of a padawan from within its sacred walls triggering alarms across the system.

Qui-Gon and the other Masters confer with hushed, urgent voices. Bant tries and fails to hold back her tears as she’s swallowed into the protective circle of her friends, a tall, elegant woman with wide, luminous, heavily scared eyes gently taking her under her wing.

Cody takes advantage of the commotion to slip out of the room.

He’s heard enough to gather the pertinent facts: Xanatos Du Crion is a former Jedi. Jinn’s second padawan. The current head of the Republic’s largest mining corporation, Off World. Top of Cody’s kill list.

The Jedi all ignore him as he leaves. He’s not even a consideration for most of them - not a Jedi and thus not a match for a Jedi rogue. Having seen the damage dangerous Force users did during the war, Cody might even be in agreement with them.

But he does have one advantage. Or two, technically.

The first, and which should be the most obvious to them; he’s Mandalorian. His people have been fighting Jedi for centuries untold, and they’ve picked up a few tricks.

The second, unknown to all of them, Cody’s honed those skills under the careful tutorage of the most decorated Jedi warrior in a thousand years.

Cody’s never been afraid to take on a Force user. He’s probably better prepared for it than most in the Temple. He’s certainly encountered more Sith.

If the Jedi catch Xanatos, they’re going to fight him fairly.

Cody’s going to shoot the _shabuir_ in the face and go from there.

* * *

The Jedi Temple is home to many things. Untold wisdom and knowledge, relics collected over their ten thousand years of existence, and a really, _really_ impressive collection of weapons. They’re for study, not use, and no self-respecting Jedi would willingly choose to fight with any of the inelegant solutions held in the collection. Cody heads for the most primitive of them all.

Blaster bolts are easily deflected by any Jedi with even minimal training. Percussion shells, not so much. Try to block them with a lightsaber and they’ll explode in your face. It won’t likely be a fatal wound, but it'll hurt, and most importantly it should knock them off guard. Getting the lightsaber out of the equation is eighty percent of the battle.

The weapon Cody finds is a good three hundred years old, but it looks in working order. He just has to deactivate the protective shield keeping it away from curious Initiate’s fingers.

Looking around for a console, he hears a familiar, “Zeep beep bop!” BD-1 is perched on the machinery, slice already in process.

“Many thanks, little one,” Cody inclines his head, grabbing the weapon and running his usual checks the second the shield falls. Some considerate archivist has even loaded it. 

“Beep beep!”

“Don’t suppose you know where Du Crion might be headed?”

The droid dances excitedly. “Bop bop beep!”

That’s good enough for Cody. “Wanna go shoot him in the head?”

“Beep beep boop bop!” BD-1 bounces off the console and onto Cody’s shoulder. “Beep beep?”

“I won’t tell the kid you said that,” Cody snorts. “Never figured you for the bloodthirsty type.”

BD-1 beeps, low and unhappily. Cody quickly shakes his head. “Only person to blame here is Du Crion,” he says firmly. And maybe Jinn.

BD hums quietly but settles and only chimes up with directions as Cody moves back through the Temple, trying not to look suspicious. He gets a lot more curious looks this time around. The Jedi aren’t used to Clones wandering in and out like they later will be, and on the back of the attack on Master Yoda there’s more than a little suspicion in their eyes.

Cody ignores it and continues on his way. He keeps his head up and his shoulders square, walking with sure, confident steps and projecting the only look that ever successfully silenced his General’s ‘ _I really don’t need to see a healer, thank you,_ ’ protests. People give him a wide berth.

To make a quick getaway, something Du Crion should want to do if trying to take a hostage, common sense suggests the hangers, the rooftops, or the docking bays. BD-1 leads him to none of these. They go back towards the Room of a Thousand Fountains, right towards the edge of the lake.

“Seriously?” Cody asks, already shrugging out of his jacket so he can wrap it protectively around his weapon. BD beeps confirmation as he wades into the depths.

Taking the opportunity to swear under his breath, Cody quickly inhales and slips below the surface.

The water is beautifully clear and it’s easy to see where BD wants him to go.

The underwater service vents that Bant so often uses to get quickly between classes are the easiest way to travel around the Temple and not be seen.

Praying that Obi-Wan isn’t being kept in one of the tunnels, Cody pushes forward. He’s got strong lungs and excellent breath control, but his vision is still going red around the edges by the time he’s able to break to the surface.

Hauling himself up from the water onto a metal platform, he quickly takes in the dark, shadowed space of a water filtration station. Few in the Temple likely ever see it. It’s hidden, hard to reach. It’s also, Cody realizes with a sinking heart, equipped with a hatch that opens right out of the side of one of the large towers that make the Temple so iconic. It’s not a space anyone would ever willingly use for entering or leaving the building and so there’s no security at all. Through the small hatch, Cody can see the side of a waiting speeder.

He drops to one knee on instinct, rolling hard on his shoulder and rebounding to the balls of his feet just as a metal panel sails towards him. The familiar hum on a lightsaber sends chills down his spine, his dread only growing deeper when an eery red glow illuminates a shadow moving in the darkness.

Xanatos, then.

“Who are you?” Crisp Core World accent, mocking sneer, cruel eyes. Skulking in the shadows like the coward you’d have to be to kidnap and use children to do your dirty work. Cody raises his weapon. “Did Qui-Gon send you? Can’t even face me himself, can’t face up to his failure, his pathetic wea-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” Cody cuts him off. “I don't care. I just want the boy.”

“Oh yes. My replacement,” Xanatos pauses. “Are you one of the curious new guests that have the Council falling over themselves in a panic? I couldn’t believe what I heard you know? Time travel! How preposterous.”

Of course, he's planted bugs. Cody has to fight the tension creeping into his body. Cere’s told them who they are and how they got here, but what else? He doesn’t know and hasn’t cared, too preoccupied with Obi-Wan. Now his ignorance is set to complicate everything. Did Cere share her theories on why they ended up on Melida/Daan? Does Xanatos know they believe Obi-Wan is the key to a puzzle they can’t yet see?

Has Xanatos taken the boy not to strike a blow at his former Master, but because of something he’s overheard?

Enough questions. He pulls the trigger.

Xanatos raises his lightsaber to deflect the blow, his reflexes as honed as any Knight’s.

The shell makes impact and explodes in his face.

Shrapnel wounds are brutal, especially when there’s no armor to protect you. Cody’s used the same argument with his General so many times he almost feels like repeating it again just for kicks.

Xanatos drops to one knee, lightsaber falling from his grasp as he clutches his bleeding face.

There’s his opening.

He can’t risk killing the fallen Jedi, not until he knows where Obi-Wan is. He flips the weapon in his hand and drives the butt of it down hard into Xanatos’s saber arm, then on the rebound, swings it around into the side of his jaw. Bone crunches satisfyingly.

Not that Cody has time to enjoy it. He’s known from the start that even if he takes the upper hand it’s going to get bloody on both sides. There’s no avoiding the wave of power that’s thrown at him as Xanatos screams his rage. All he can do is try and relax as it hits, the impact bruising but not as devastating as it should be. That’s another trick he’s learned from Obi-Wan: there are some times when you dig your heels in and brace for impact, and there are others where you let yourself go and relax into it. Bruises beat broken ribs any day.

He’s still knocked off his feet, and Xanatos is faster than most.

That familiar hum and a flash of red. Cody rolls on instinct, avoiding the downward strike aimed at his chest.

The next one is higher, aimed at his head. Another roll, another near miss. Any second now they are going to be back at the edge of the water tunnel and either one or the other of them is going to get wet.

If Cody rolls _into_ the next attack, he can make sure that it’s Xanatos. It won’t do _him_ any damage, but lightsabers don’t do well when submerged in water. Then it’s almost even footing again.

One more blow. That’s all he has to avoid.

He doesn’t get the chance.

The glowing red blade swings down hard, only to be met mere inches from the top of Cody’s head.

BD-1 beeps angrily, perched on Cal’s shoulder.

“My friend asked you a question,” the young Knight growls, his hair dripping against pale skin. “Where is the kid?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was originally going to have a very different end, but then the inspiration bunnies duplicated and here we are! Thank you so much for your kind feedback and enthusiasm! This story is now complete and the next part will be with you soon! I hope you continue to enjoy, and see you in the next fic!

Another thing Cody has learned from Obi-Wan: if two Jedi, rogue Jedi, Sith or combination of the above cross sabers in your general vicinity, make yourself as scares as possible, as fast as possible. Nine times out of ten, your presence will be a hindrance, not a help.

Cal’s blade has caught Xanatos’s mere inches from Cody’s head. The moment of stillness, of surprise at the arrival of a new player on the field, lasts only seconds. Xanatos, enraged and bleeding, screams and swings into a vicious offense.

Cody gets out of the way. Fast.

Jedi can deal with crazy _dar'jetii;_ he’s got a kid to find.

Scrambling to his feet, Cody sprints for the waiting speeder beyond the hatch. It’s a good few meters away from the wall and a long karking way down to the ground below. Cody vaults across the space, grabbing hold of the side and swinging his leg over until he can climb aboard.

Immediately, he sees the crumpled body in the back seat and his heart freezes in his chest. “Obi-Wan! _Shab_ , kid, come on-” reaching over, his fingers curl under wet spikes of red hair. The boy is cold to touch, but after a terrifying second, his heartbeat pulses sluggishly against Cody’s fingers.

There’s a nasty looking bruise spanning the boy’s face, the kind you only get when a grown man puts all his force into hitting someone so much smaller. Cody shouts a furious order for Cal to cut Xanatos’s kirfing head off and gathers Obi-Wan into his arms.

He’s done this before - not often, not even as often as he probably should’ve, not when his General can so stubbornly cling to consciousness well beyond the point of sanity - but it’s happened. He’s held this life in his arms and marveled at how fragile it is. Now, infinitely more so. His General has never been a big man, but the bones under thin skin feel far too brittle and small. Gentleness is not something Cody is designed for and the idea of causing harm in his desire to help almost freezes him in place.

He’s alive. He’s _alive_ , and Cody can keep him safe.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, _ad’ika_ ,” Cody grumbles. He dips his forehead to briefly rest against Obi-Wan’s own, the shelves his indecisiveness for a later date.

Just in time. A movement to the side of the speeder has him reaching for the controls. Xanatos, either in victory or retreat, launches himself from inside the Temple with every intention of landing in the speeder.

Cody jams the controls, one arm keeping Obi-Wan tucked safely against him. They lurch to the side with sickening speed and Xanatos slips into the space between them. It’s too much to hope that he dies from the fall, but he’ll be out of the equation for long enough.

“Pass him here!”

Jinn and Cal appear at the hatch, ready and waiting for Cody to carefully pass Obi-Wan back into the safety of the Temple. Jinn immediately pulls the boy into his arms, cradling him gently while Cal offers Cody a hand and hauls him back inside.

“Is he okay?” Cal asks, resting a palm on Cody’s back to steady him.

Jinn has one hand on Obi-Wan’s unbruised cheek, the other over his chest. He slips into the same semi-trance Obi-Wan or Anakin sometimes did when the other was hurt, eyes closed and breathing slow, before rousing himself a few moments later. “He’ll be fine,” Jinn says, relief heavy in his voice. Cal and Cody become a distant memory as the Jedi Master strokes Obi-Wan’s wet hair off his forehead and rocks the boy in his arms. “What am I going to do with you, little one?” Jinn practically radiates conflict, love and duty and old pain warring for control of his heart. It leads Cody to wonder which came first, Xanatos's betrayal, or Jinn's emotional distance with his students.

Deciding he doesn't care when Obi-Wan is the one who suffers either way, Cody breaks the mood with ringing irritation. “A Healer might be a good place to start,” he snaps.

Jinn startles, then nods, rising with Obi-Wan tucked protectively in his arms. Swaddled in his Master's cloak, Obi-Wan's eyes remain closed and the child remains ignorant to the depths of Jinn's care.

“Beep bop beep,” BD chirrups.

“Tell me about it BD,” Cal clips his lightsaber back onto his belt. “I think we _all_ need a nap.”

* * *

Xanatos vanishes into thin air. In between awkward silences shared with both Jinn and Cere, Cody offers to hunt him down and shoot him again. The Jedi refuse. Politely. The also, politely, request the weapon he appropriated from the Archives to be returned before the end of the day. Cody begrudgingly obliges with both.

In other things that never change, it takes Obi-Wan only ninety seconds after waking up in the Halls of Healing to both ask after the health of his friends and demand to know when he’s allowed to leave. Jinn is a whole lot better at keeping him in line than Anakin or Cody ever were, though he’s helped by the influx of young Jedi who wish to keep him company. For the first time, Cody is able to see the happy child he should be emerge from under that studious Jedi exterior.

He keeps the image in mind when summoned, with Jinn, Cal and Cere, before the entire Jedi Council.

They start with Xanatos. Qui-Gon wants to go after him. The Council refuses him. Jinn is visibly unhappy, but eventually, he nods. “And Obi-Wan?” The polite but firm cadence of his voice reminds Cody painfully of his General. How many of The Negotiator’s famous skills were honed at his Master’s side? For all his questionable actions as a mentor and guardian, Jinn is clearly held in high regard by his peers. And Obi-Wan, of course. Filed with Cody’s returning memories are moments of sitting shoulder to should with his General on some far-flung planet, Obi-Wan retelling - and likely sanitizing - many of his more amusing exploits as a youngster. His reverence for his old Master has always been clear and for all that Cody wouldn’t trust Jinn with a teacup, let alone a child, he is hesitant to steal that hero worship from his eyes.

“In grave danger, Obi-Wan is,” Yoda says. Cody’s seen the old Master grow increasingly burdened and weary with the war, but the troubled look in his eyes sits heavier than ever. “Protected, he must be, yes. But prepared, also.”

Jinn’s unimpressed expression is mirrored on Cody’s face. “To fight the Sith,” he says flatly, having been carefully briefed on the situation. “You want to train my thirteen-year-old padawan to battle the darkest, most evil creatures in the Universe.”

“He gets really good at it?” It’s clear Cal is trying to be helpful, but Jinn flinches. It’s not an inaccurate statement: trying - and failing - to kill General Kenobi might as well be a Sith rite of passage. He doubts that Cal, or anyone else in the room, has any idea the price Obi-Wan will pay for the level of mastery he achieves.

Stepping in to soothe the bristled needles of Jinn’s inconsistent protectiveness, Cere holds up her hands in an attempt to placate. “I understand your concern, Master Jinn,” she says, “and Force knows it goes against every instinct I ever had as a Master. But we were sent here for a reason. We were sent to _Obi-Wan_. The Force guided Cody to that artifact and us to him. It brought us to Obi-Wan. Now, we don’t know why, but-”

“I know why,” Cody interrupts. His heartbeat is suddenly pounding in his ears, new horror, but an old anticipation. Grievous was dead, they were so close to ending the war, and _then..._ The eyes of everyone in the chamber fall on him. He's reported to them before, this is no different. “The Sith won because there was no one left to fight them. If we’d not been issued the order,” his bones ache with the sound of rattling blaster fire, “the war would still’ve been over in a matter of days. The General killed Grievous; the Count was dead. Maul and Ventris were no match for him in the end...”

Cere picks up his line of thinking. “You believe the Council would’ve sent Kenobi to kill Darth Sideous?” Just saying the name here, in this sacred place, sends a shiver around the collected Jedi. Jinn takes a deep, shuddering breath, visibly composing himself.

“If not alone, then with General Skywalker,” Cody agrees. It’s something he knew from the very early days, something between dread and anticipation that stretched out into a shadow the very first time he saw Obi-Wan in action. You assign the best soldiers to the most important missions. The Sith Lord and Jedi Master finally coming to blows had seemed inevitable. Until Cody had his General shot in the back.

Obi-Wan might not have survived the Sith Master, but Cody knows in his heart he’d’ve taken the _shabuir_ with him.

A sharp bang rings through the room. Yoda, off his seat, leans heavily on his stick as he paces. “Speculate, we shall not. Cautious, we must be, yes. But decisive, also.” He shares a glance with Mace Windu, who nods gravely. “Summon the boy and Sister Merrin.”

Obi-Wan and Merrin enter the chamber when called. He sticks close to the young Nightsister, whose whole posture reflects her discomfort and apprehension. Cody sees Jinn catch the boy’s eye and watches some of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Yoda summons him closer. Obi-Wan startles, but obeys, bending deeply into a bow before settling respectful down on one knee before the small Grand Master.

“Yes, Master?”

“Wish to be a Jedi again, do you?” Yoda asks. “Learned from your mistakes, you have not. Reckless, you still are.”

Obi-Wan seems to hesitate, but he doesn’t look to anyone for support. “I know, Master,” he says softly. “I’ve brought shame on my training, cast doubt on my fellow padawans and dishonored my Master’s teaching.” Cody’s jaw spasms. “For that, I humbly beg the Council - and Master Jinn’s - forgiveness. And Master Tahl also,” he adds softly. “For my actions endangered her life.”

Cody waits for someone, anyone, to tell the boy that he's taking far too much blame on his shoulders. When no one says anything, he deeply regrets having returned his weapon to the Archives. 

“Answered my question, you have not,” Yoda says sternly.

Obi-Wan finally looks up, utterly bereft. “I made my choice not because I wished to turn away from the Jedi, or the Code. I see now that it was the wrong decision. I will do what I can to make amends, but regardless of the outcome, my loyalty remains, as always, with the Jedi.” He sets his chin, looking both very, very young and painfully mature. “But I understand that actions have consequences and that I must prove my commitment and worth to the Council. If... if it pleases you, Master, I would ask that you put me on probation.”

Yoda shakes his head sadly. “Pleased, I am not,” he says, watching carefully as Obi-Wan folds in on himself miserably. “Confer on you the rank of padawan, this Council does. A Jedi you are meant to be.”

Cody unclenches his fists in relief. BD-1, watching from his usual perch, lets out a wild shriek of delighted beeps before hiding behind Cal’s shoulder. The young knight has to visibly bite back on his amusement.

The breath Obi-Wan lets out is shaky. “Thank you, Master,” he bows his head, then addresses the rest of the Council and repeats the action. Then, hopefully, those young, eager eyes turn to Jinn.

“Congratulations, Obi-Wan,” Jinn says warmly. His expression is gentle, kind, and Obi-Wan lights up under the simple approval.

“Much to discuss, there is,” Yoda continues, hopping back up on his chair as Obi-Wan rises and is gently pulled to Jinn’s side. The Master keeps a hand on the boy’s shoulder and there’s no missing the way Obi-Wan leans towards him.

“Sister Merrin,” Mace Windu speaks up. Merrin, who has otherwise been silent, suddenly startles.

“Yes?”

“We appreciate the complexity of your situation, but in light of what we have learned, we must ask your help.”

“What do you wish of me?”

“You and Master Jinn are to travel to Dathomir,” Windu says. “If we are divided, all will suffer. Make contact with the Nightsisters, implore on them the importance of opening communications between our two peoples.”

Merrin nods, but says, “That will not be easy. Our histories are laced with antagonism. On both sides.”

“You know what is at stake,” Master Plo speaks up encouragingly. “Master Qui-Gon is our most experienced diplomat and will aid you in whatever way necessary.”

“It would be my honor,” Jinn says, bowing his head in Merrin’s direction.

“With respect, Masters,” Cal’s interruption is careful, “but will one Jedi be enough?”

“You worry too much,” Merrin nudges him with her elbow.

“I’m just remembering how many things tried to eat me on Dathomir,” Cal shudders, his eyes wide.

Merrin smirks at him. “I’m sure Master Jinn will prove equally as adept at pushing them off cliffs as you did.”

“A different mission we have for you, Cal Kestis,” Yoda hums. Cal quickly nods, but instead of elaborating, Yoda turns to Cere. “Much healing do you need, Cere Junda, and much wisdom can you impart. Here at the Temple, we need you. Confer with the Knights you shall. Prepared, we must be.”

Cody catches the confusion flash across Obi-Wan’s expression and is relieved when the boy remains silent.

Cere bows. “I will not fail you, Masters.”

“Commander Cody.” It’s only years of parade discipline that stop Cody from jumping in surprise when he’s addressed. “Unusual this is. The Council wish to hire you, as a civilian advisor.”

None of those words make sense to Cody. “Ge- Master Yoda?”

That wicked spark of life and humor makes a brief return to Yoda’s gaze. Suddenly, Cody thinks he’s about to be gambling with a whole lot more than his dignity. “Experience you have. Use it we must.”

“I’ll serve in whatever capacity you’ll have me, Sir,” Cody vows.

“We’re assigning you to a Master-Padawan team,” Windu says. “You’ll work with them, under the guidance of the Council.”

“Sir,” Cody nods. He can’t say he’s looking forward to spending more time with Jinn, but anything to stay close to Obi-Wan. It’s more than he’s been expecting.

“We will value your input, Commander.” The olive branch Jinn holds out is flimsy, but Cody’s never managed to be as petty as he’s sometimes wanted.

“You misunderstand us,” Windu corrects them. “The Commander will not be traveling with you to Dathomir.”

“Forgive me, Masters,” Jinn says. “I should not have assumed.”

“Padawan, Obi-Wan is,” Yoda says gravely. “His Master, you are not.”

It’s impossible to say who looks more stricken by the announcement. Raw despair floods Obi-Wan’s pale face, but when he looks up to Jinn for answers, only confusion shows.

“Punishment, this is not,” Yoda shakes his head, his voice the gentlest it’s been all session. “For either of you.”

“Then... who is to be my Master?” Obi-Wan looks as lost now as he did when being scolded.

Kirfing hells, these Jedi are going to drive him to his grave.

“With Commander Cody, you will go,” Yoda announces, forstalling yet another nervous breakdown on Cody’s part. “And your new Master, Knight Kestis.”

“I’m sorry,” Cal blinks. “ _What_?”

BD lets out a high pitched trill of delight, and the entire Council chambers suddenly explode into commotion.


End file.
